


just a little bit, it’s what you need

by chaosmere



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, enemies to lovers (kind of), they are roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29880027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosmere/pseuds/chaosmere
Summary: When Jinsol pictured out the idea of going off to college and having a roommate, this isn’t exactly the scenario she imagined.
Relationships: Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 19
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

Jinsol unlocks the door to the room that will be her home for the next eight months, takes a deep breath, and pushes it open.

She immediately falters when she sees the sight within.

She’s not sure if it’s because the girl is smoking a cigarette in broad daylight in  _ their _ soon-to-be shared room  _ or  _ if it’s because she’s really attractive doing it.

Either way, it somehow grinds her gears. 

Not to be deterred, she steps inside with her suitcase, lets the door close behind her, and clears her throat. “Um, hello? Are you Jungeun?”

The blonde girl who’s currently perched on the windowsill on the far side of the room turns her head, allowing a small cloud of smoke to escape her mouth. 

“And you are?” the girl raises her eyebrow, ignoring Jinsoul’s question. She doesn’t move from the windowsill.

Jinsol tilts her head. “Jinsol, your roommate?”

Jungeun simply nods, then takes another drag and breathes the smoke out before speaking again. “Does it bother you?”

“What does?”

“The smoking.”

“Kind of,” Jinsol answers truthfully. “I’m not too fond of it.”

To her surprise, Jungeun throws the remnants of her cigarette onto the ashtray, not even bothering to extinguish it.

“Thanks,” Jinsol mutters and she puts her bags down on the floor.

A beat.

“I’m gay, by the way.” 

Jinsol leans closer, sure she misheard. “Excuse me?”

The blonde runs her tongue along her teeth. “I said I’m gay.”

“Okay? Uh…good for you?”

Jungeun shrugs one shoulder. “Thought I should give you the heads up early in case it’s going to bother you as well.”

“It’s not.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Gay?”

Jinsol clears her throat. “Oh. No.”

It’s the truth. Jinsol isn’t gay—she’s bisexual. And she’s not quite as willing as Jungeun seems to be to give that information up to a stranger within minutes of meeting her.

“That’s cool.” Jungeun turns back to look out the window. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Jinsol squints at the unexpected question. “No, why?”

“Just curious.”

“Okay,” Jinsol pauses. “So. Um. Why are you sitting in the window?”

Jungeun hums but doesn’t actually answer.

“Cool,” Jinsol mutters under her breath.

When she pictured going off to college and having a roommate, this isn’t exactly the scenario she imagined.

“JIWOO,” Jungeun shouts out the window.

Jinsol leaps out of her skin, clutching her chest. “What the hell?”

Jungeun doesn’t turn. “My best friend,” she offers, as if that’s any explanation.

“My condolences to them,” Jinsol mumbles.

She takes a moment to finally glance around the small room. There’s not much in it aside from a couple of desks, two dressers, and a bunk bed. On top of the desk is an alarm clock shaped like an owl, presumably Jungeun’s, and Jinsol thinks how much it resembles the girl perched on the window right now.

There’s a thud as Jungeun jumps suddenly off the ledge. Jinsol gets her first real look at her as she straightens up.

She’s wearing a black crop top covered by a gray cardigan and denim jeans. The right sleeve of her cardigan falls slightly off her shoulder and Jinsol catches something written on the inside of her arm in thick black ink. Jinsol can’t quite make out what it is at the current angle.

“I’m a top,” Jungeun says.

Jinsol blinks. “Sorry?”

Jungeun jabs her thumb at the bunk bed. “Hope that’s okay with you.”

Jinsol’s eyes travel up to the top bunk, where there’s already a pillow and bedding resting.

“Fine by me,” Jinsol says.

“Okay then, I have somewhere to be right now,” Jungeun says as she steps around her. “I’ll see you later, Jinsol.”

Jinsol turns after her. “Wait, what time will you be back?”

With her back facing her, Jungeun merely snorts. “Are you going to miss me?”

“N-no, just,” Jinsol splutters. “I was just asking.”

“Just don’t wait up for me,” Jungeun says, and then she slips from the room before Jinsol can say another word.

All Jinsol can do is blink and look around the room with stupor.

This is going to be one hell of a year.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s been two weeks, and Jinsol is pretty sure that Jungeun barely goes to her classes. She never seems to leave the room during the day, just sleeps in the whole duration or stays in the room doing god knows what. 

She does leave frequently in the night for hours at a time, waking Jinsol up every single time she leaps from the top bunk to the floor, forgoing the ladder. Jinsol has no idea where she disappears to or what she’s doing, and she doesn’t ask.

She really  _ is _ an owl.

“Do you have a social life?” Jungeun asks abruptly one day.

Jinsol looks up from her laptop at her desk. “Yes, I do,” she says stiffly.

“I don’t ever see you  _ not _ studying,” Jungeun says, blunt as ever. 

Jinsol huffs, already unimpressed by how many times she’s been told the exact same words by her few friends. “Do you even go to your classes?”

“What makes you think I don’t?” Jungeun retorts, one eyebrow raised with amusement.

“I don’t see you leaving the room during the day.”

Jungeun hums. “Fair. Do you want to make a deal?”

Jinsol stops typing, attention fully focused on the blonde now. “What deal?”

“If I go to class, will you come to a party with me?”

Jinsol honestly can’t tell whether or not she’s joking.

“Are you serious?”

Jungeun smirks. “Of course.”

“How is that even a fair deal? It’s college, you  _ should _ go to your classes,” Jinsol rolls her eyes.

“Is that a no then?”

They stare at each other for a moment and for some reason, Jinsol is sure that Jungeun somehow knows how to manipulate her thinking, because she finds herself actually thinking about it.

Jinsol eventually relents and returns her attention to her laptop. 

“Fine, it’s a deal,” she mutters.

#

Jinsol is ten minutes into her Philosophy lecture when someone sits down beside her.

She’s ready to be angry, wondering what kind of person chooses the seat right next to her when the rest of the row is empty, then does a double-take when she sees who it is.

“Jungeun, what are you doing here?” Jinsol hisses under her breath.

“Attending class,” Jungeun says. “Can I borrow a pen?”

“When I say ‘go to class’, I don’t mean  _ mine, _ obviously.”

“A class is a class,” Jungeun smiles, amused. “Pen?”

Jinsol huffs and digs around in her bag until she produces one. She hands it to her. “Did you transfer to this class?”

“No,” Jungeun replies.

“Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us?” the professor at the front of the room asks, arms folded across her chest. “Your thoughts on Kant's goodwill, perhaps?”

Surprisingly, Jungeun doesn’t miss a beat.

“Sure. Kant means that goodwill is ‘good without qualification’ as such an absolute good-in-itself, universally good in every instance and never merely as good to some yet further end. Basically, it is a will that desires to treat each human as an end in itself, rather than a means to some end.”

There’s a pause.

“Very good,” the professor says. “What’s your name?”

“Kim… Kim Lip,” Jungeun says.

“I don’t think your name is on my class list,” the professor frowns.

“It wouldn’t be on there yet; I only transferred in this morning.” Jungeun sneaks a wink at Jinsol.

“I shall keep an eye out for it, then,” the professor says. She clears her throat. “So, as Kim Lip eloquently put it, Kant essentially believes that we value goodwill without limitation. Now, if we examine…”

“Nice definition, Kim Lip,” Jinsol says under her breath as the lecture continues. “You memorized it straight from the internet.”

“Is it really so hard to believe that I have intelligent thoughts?”

“I read the same website in preparation for class,” Jinsol says dryly. “In fact, I think I left it open on my laptop.”

“What a coincidence then,” Jungeun smirks.

Jinsol just flat-out ignores her, unwilling to let Jungeun’s antics get in the way of her education. Let her try to mess with her as much as she wants.

#

She’s sitting alone in the meal hall eating dinner when Jungeun appears out of nowhere and grabs the chair across from her, setting her tray down.

Jinsol raises her eyebrow. “Why are you here?”

“Hello to you too, Jinsol.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s just that you don’t normally eat with me.”

“First time for everything,” Jungeun says, shoving a piece of lettuce into her mouth.

Jinsol just sighs and goes back to her own meal. First, Jungeun goes to her class uninvited, now they’ve become meal buddies, decidedly so. 

“Do you have friends?” Jungeun asks.

Jinsol frowns. “That’s kind of a rude question, you know that, right?” 

“Only if you don’t have any,” Jungeun says.

Jinsol glares at her pointedly.

“No need to give me the stink eye,” Jungeun says, face serious despite the teasing tone. “I’m trying to be your friend.”

“We don’t need to be friends,” Jinsol says. “We just have to live together.”

Jungeun merely hums.

They eat their meals in silence.

“Saturday, 9 PM,” Jungeun says suddenly.

Jinsol looks up. “What?”

“The party. We had a deal.”

Right. Jinsol almost forgot about that.

“You went to  _ my _ class, not yours,” Jinsol says while pointing the fork at her.

The blonde girl shrugs. “You didn’t specify, so,” she drawls.

“Fine.”

Jinsol tidies up her tray, decidedly not hungry anymore.

“Leaving already?” Jungeun asks.

“I have to study,” Jinsol says, standing up from her chair and grabbing her tray. “Maybe you should try it sometimes.”

“Stop flirting with me and I will.”

Jinsol pauses. “Excuse me? I am _not_ flirting with you.”

Jungeun clicks her tongue. “Sure.”

“You’d know if I was,” Jinsol says confidently, then turns and walks away from the table, just catching the smug expression on Jungeun’s face before she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i must say... i'm having so much fun writing this type of dynamic


	3. Chapter 3

“I can’t believe I traded my peaceful Saturday night with this,” she mutters, fiddling with the ends of her skirt.

She’s decided to go for a simple outfit, just a simple blue blouse to go with her white skirt and sneakers.

“Well, would you rather stay in your room forcing yourself to sleep while there’s a party going on in the common room?” Jungeun says beside her, eyes scanning the room.

Jinsol follows her line of sight and takes in the environment herself. What was once a quiet, almost desolate dormitory common room becomes a room full to the brim with people, most of them people who Jinsol doesn’t really recognize. 

The people around them stink of alcohol, sweat, and a debauched mix of hormones and illegal substances.

This kind of environment must be Jungeun’s natural habitat.

Jinsol clearly doesn’t belong here and perhaps it must have come off that way to the people there because they keep sneaking glances at her.

Feeling conscious by the attention, Jinsol keeps her head down. “They’re staring at me.”

Jungeun turns to her and smiles. “Maybe it’s because you’re pretty.”

The sudden compliment from the one person Jinsol decidedly loathes makes her dizzy. She hasn’t even had a single drink yet.

Not really knowing what to say, she ignores it and decides to grab two red solo cups, because they  _ are _ in a party after all, so might as well. She hands one to Jungeun.

“Look at you warming up,” Jungeun teases, nudging her shoulder with her own.

“Whatever.” She haphazardly takes a glance inside her cup and takes a little sip. “What is this thing?”

Jungeun takes a sip herself and ponders for a moment before answering her. “Kool-aid, a bunch of fruit juices and fruit chunks, and,” she takes another sip, “hm, Everclear.”

Jinsol looks at her, slightly impressed. “Do you major in alcohol mixing?”

The blonde snorts and shakes her head.

“Anyway, I guess I’ll let you have your fun n-”

“Jungeun, wait.” Jinsol grabs her wrist. “Don’t leave me alone.”

Jungeun stares at her for a second, confused, then the expression on her face softens. She holds Jinsol’s hand that’s keeping a firm grip on her wrist.

“Okay.”

#

Music has pounded through the walls for about an hour now. Jinsol honestly has no idea what she’s doing but Jungeun keeps smiling at her like she knows exactly what she’s thinking. 

It makes Jinsol inadvertently blush every time and she always masks it off by rolling her eyes at the girl.

At some point, Jinsol moves to loiter behind Jungeun and Jungeun lets her as she guides them over to the edge of the room.

As soon as they’re a little bit isolated from the crowd, Jungeun leans against the wall and lets out a sigh. 

“Jinsol,” she says, swirling the contents of her cup.

Jinsol turns to her. “What?”

“Why do you hate me?”

The question surprises her, so she takes a few seconds, before leaning against the wall beside Jungeun. 

Jinsol exhales. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t like me.”

Jinsol scoffs. “You irritate me. Constantly. On purpose.”

Jungeun chuckles. “It’s fun getting under your skin. You’re too uptight. If you let go a little and didn’t care so much, then you’d stop reacting like you do and it wouldn’t be fun anymore and I’d stop.”

“That’s unfair,” Jinsol says stiffly. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you enough,” Jungeun says. “You’re a good egg, Jinsol. You just gotta crack that shell a little, you know?”

Then there’s a loud, painful thump as Jungeun accidentally hits her head back on the wall. She cradles her head with one hand and slides down against the wall to sit.

Jinsol instantly crouches in front of her, heart racing. “Jungeun, are you okay!?”

“I guess I got my head cracked first,” she laughs amidst the pain. “I think I’ve had a lot more alcohol than I thought.”

“Do you have a concussion?” Jinsol asks.

“How would I know?”

“Does your head hurt? Don’t sit up. Stay still.” Jinsol’s hand rests lightly on Jungeun’s chest, holding her down, not trusting that she won’t disobey her orders.

“I’m gonna be fine,” Jungeun grins. “Look at you caring about me.”

“I’m a human being, Jungeun,” Jinsol says, clipped. “I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I don’t have feelings.”

“I never said you didn’t. It’s just nice to get a break from you hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You keep saying that.”

Jinsol licks her lips. “If you’re sure you’re a little okay now, try standing up. Slowly, though.”

She helps Jungeun carefully stand upright. She leans closer to inspect her head, moving blonde strands carefully until she spots a little bump on her scalp.

“Let’s get that an ice pack when we get to our room.”

“This is embarrassing.”

Jinsol shakes her head. “That’s what you get for being an asshole.”

Jungeun smiles. “Do you forgive me, though?”

Jinsol appraises her. “Fine.”

“It’s progress.”

#

Shortly after the little incident, Jungeun spots her little group of friends on the common room couch.

“Let’s meet my friends,” Jungeun says. She holds out her hand. “Come on.”

Jinsol takes it, letting Jungeun lead her from the corner of the room to the center where there are significantly more people. She can’t help but stumble on the way, the alcohol kicking in slightly, but Jungeun’s sure and steady grip keeps her from face planting into the floor.

When they get there, a girl immediately jumps up from her seat on the couch and greets Jungeun with a bright smile.

“Jungie! You’re here!”

Jungeun laughs and pats her head. “I did say I was coming.”

She clears her throat. “Guys, this is my roommate, Jinsol,” Jungeun says. “Jinsol, this is Jiwoo, my best friend.”

Jinsol recognizes that name from when they first met.

The sunshine-like girl lifts her hand in a wave then shakes both of Jinsol’s hands. “Hello! It’s nice to finally meet you!”

_ Finally _ ? 

She can’t even dwell on it because Jungeun continues.

“And that’s Hyejoo.”

The dark-haired girl groans but ultimately lifts her hand as well. “Hello.”

“Don’t take it personally, she doesn’t really wanna be here so she’s not in the mood to meet strangers,” the third and final person in the room says, a girl with short brown hair who looks familiar, like maybe Jinsol has a class with her.

“And that’s Ha Sooyoung,” Jungeun says.

Jinsol squints. “Ha Sooyoung?” she repeats, her heart starting to beat fast as she realizes exactly how she knows her.

Sooyoung cocks her head to look at her. “Jung Jinsol, right? Fish girl?”

“You do remember me,” Jinsol murmurs. Was she that inconsequential in Sooyoung’s life that she barely seems to remember her?

Jungeun looks back and forth between them with surprise. “You know each other?”

“We were friends back in elementary school,” Jinsol says. “But then…”

“I moved away,” Sooyoung says.

“You left, yeah,” Jinsol says, voice filled with hurt.

Her one friend—possibly the only real friend she’s ever had in her life—walking away before she could blink. The only person who dared talk to her, the only person she truly connected with. Gone.

“Yeah, well, we were kids,” Sooyoung says flippantly. “It was a long time ago. Jungeun said her roommate’s name was Jinsol, but I wasn’t sure if it was the same one. Nice to see you again.” She takes a sip from her cup.

“That’s awesome, you two know each other, Sooyoungie!” Jiwoo clings to her arm.

Jinsol takes a step backward, insides burning.

“I should go,” she says. “It’s getting late.”

Jungeun frowns. “What? No, don’t go. Stay.”

“Thank you,” Jinsol says, taking another step backwards, “but I really…really should go.”

Jungeun reaches out a hand as if to stop her, but it falls into the air between them. “Alright, I’ll see you back at the room,” she says, voice uneasy.

“Thanks,” Jinsol says again, and then she leaves the common room, walking as quickly as she can down the hallway, unable to get away fast enough.

It’s only when she’s safely inside their room that her eyes well up.

Ha Sooyoung. She thought she’d never see her again. She didn’t want to ever see her again, not when she left her in her most desperate time of need.

She knows it wasn’t Sooyoung’s fault. People move. It was her parents’ decision, not hers.

But Jinsol can’t help but blame her for it all the same. Sooyoung could’ve kept in touch. Could’ve called, emailed, found her on Facebook.

She never did.

That’s the reason why Jung Jinsol doesn’t have a lot of friends.

They all walk out of her life sooner or later anyway.

#

Jungeun doesn’t return to their room until late. Jinsol lies very still in her bed, the lights off, and pretends to be asleep.

She feels her bed indent as Jungeun sits down on the edge of it anyway.

“You’re upset,” she says softly. “Sorry if I did something wrong. I don’t know what I could’ve done, but I’m still sorry.”

Jinsol doesn’t answer.

“Also, my head’s okay now. That’s all,” Jungeun says and Jinsol feels her heart clench. She gets up, the weight shifting on the bed again. She pulls herself up to the top bunk without bothering to get changed. The frame creaks as she shifts around, getting under the covers.

Jinsol is used to the sounds now.

Jungeun is asleep and breathing evenly within minutes, but Jinsol doesn’t fall asleep for a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 user chaosmere writing angst and _not_ just plotless fluff??? gasp


	4. Chapter 4

They don’t talk about that night again. If Jungeun ever figures out that it was Sooyoung that upset Jinsol, she doesn’t give any indication. She doesn’t bring her up again, or her other friends, so Jinsol thinks that maybe she does know.

Either way, they don’t talk about it. They get on with their lives. They study. Jinsol studies. Jungeun continues to disappear in the night. Maybe she’s with Sooyoung and her group of friends. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

Maybe Jinsol was kidding herself if she thought Jungeun actually wanted to be her friend.

Jung Jinsol has always been nobody’s friend.

#

Or so she thinks.

“Are you going home for the break?” Jungeun asks at the beginning of November.

Jinsol has been working on an essay for three hours straight, and when she looks away from her laptop screen, she has to blink moisture back into her eyes to be able to focus on her roommate.

Jungeun is sitting at her own desk, chair facing Jinsol, staring at her intently with a notebook and pen in her hand.

“Um…no,” Jinsol says, distracted by the intense focus in her eyes.

Jungeun writes something in her notebook without breaking eye contact. “Why?”

Jinsol’s eyes dart to the notebook. “Too much schoolwork,” she murmurs.

She writes something again.

Jinsol sits up straighter. “What are you doing?”

Jungeun writes. “Writing a book.”

“About what?”

“A strung-out Philosophy major who hates her roommate.”

Jinsol huffs. “I am not strung-out.”

Jungeun quirks an eyebrow with a half-smile. “I never said I was writing about you, but that’s interesting that your mind made the comparison.”

“Shut up,” Jinsol grumbles, turning back to her screen and rubbing her eyes.

“You should take a break.”

“I’m good.”

“Sooyoung said you’ve always been an overachiever even as a kid.”

Jinsol stiffens in her chair. Her head snaps over to glare icily. “She talked to you about me?”

“I asked what little Jinsol was like,” Jungeun chuckles, cocking her head. “That was all she had to say.”

Jinsol bites down on her lip hard enough to draw blood and returns to writing her essay without responding.

All she can hear is the scratching of Jungeun’s pen, and it’s getting under her skin. She reaches for her headphones.

“I’ll stick around,” Jungeun says just as Jinsol is about to put her headphones on.

Jinsol pauses and glances at her.

“For the break,” Jungeun adds with a smile.

“Do whatever you want,” Jinsol says after a hefty pause, and then puts her headphones on.

#

The dorm clears out over the break, and it’s like a dream. The cafeteria isn’t crowded; there’s no wait for the showers; there’s not a party keeping her awake every other night…

Except true to her word, Jungeun doesn’t go home for the break, so Jinsol doesn’t really get any peace.

On Tuesday afternoon, Jinsol decides to make the most of the empty building and do some laundry without having to compete for the machines. As she packs up her hamper and detergent, Jungeun pops her head over the edge of her bed.

“Are you doing laundry?”

Jinsol slides her shoes on. “Yeah.”

“Wait—” Jungeun clambers down the ladder of the bunk bed. “Can I join you?”

Jinsol stares at her. “I don’t own the laundry room.”

“Cool,” Jungeun says, either ignoring or missing the sarcasm. “Laundry is better with friends, you know.”

“I always considered it a solitary pursuit,” Jinsol says, inching towards the door.

Jungeun gathers armfuls of dirty clothes from her half of the room. “Wrong. I promise: it’s better with a friend. Most things are. Grocery shopping…cooking…sex…”

Jinsol chokes.

“So I’ve heard, anyway,” Jungeun says, eyes twinkling. “That last one’s yet to be proven.” She winks.

Jinsol turns to hide her red face, unlocking and opening the door and grabbing her hamper.

“Hold the door,” Jungeun says.

Jinsol holds it open with her hip while Jungeun ducks past her, arms cradling a massive pile of clothes. Jinsol _tsks_ as she follows her into the hallway and locks the door again.

They make their way down to the basement. Jinsol has to pick up more than one dropped sock as she trails behind Jungeun and even a pair of underwear that she scoops up with her foot and flicks to the top of the pile. Her face stays red.

In the laundry room, Jungeun shoves her entire load into one machine, making Jinsol shudder as she methodically sorts her clothes and starts three separate loads for lights, darks, and delicates. By the time she finishes, Jungeun has been leaning against one of the washers and watching her for several minutes.

“Are you a come-back-in-an-hour or a sit-here-obsessively-making-sure-nobody-steals-your-clothes type of girl?” The corner of Jungeun’s mouth ticks up. “I have a feeling I can guess the answer.”

“I usually bring a book or schoolwork,” Jinsol grumbles, “but you distracted me.”

Jungeun hums contemplatively and peels herself off the washing machine, tapping her chin. She holds a finger up triumphantly. “I’ll be right back.”

Jinsol falters. “What? Where are you going?”

“I have to get something,” Jungeun says.

“No you don’t,” Jinsol says. “You’re going to leave me here to watch your laundry for you.”

“Not true. Don’t you trust me?”

Jinsol’s chest aches suddenly. “I…”

Jungeun’s face is earnest. “I promise. I’ll be right back.”

She reaches out and takes Jinsol’s hand, placing it on her chest.

Jinsol frowns. “Um…why am I touching your boob?”

Jungeun chuckles. “Because... when I lie, my heart races super fast. How does it feel now?”

Jinsol feels. She swallows. “It’s…a little fast.”

Jungeun breaks into a sheepish smile and looks down at Jinsol’s hand. “Oh, well, that’s not from lying then.”

Jinsol clears her throat and abruptly pulls her hand back. 

“I believe you,” she says, trying to keep indifference in her voice. “If you’re not back in five minutes, you’ll lose my trust entirely.”

Jungeun’s face turns solemn. “In that case, I better run.”

She does. She sprints from the room before Jinsol can say anything else.

She checks the remaining time on her laundry, then sighs and hops up onto the table at the back of the room where several lost and forgotten socks are strewn.

She times it on her watch. Jungeun jogs back through the laundry room door after two minutes have elapsed. She’s bright red and panting.

“Did you run the whole way?” Jinsol asks.

“I had your trust to earn,” Jungeun gasps out. She brandishes the objects in her hand.

Jinsol raises her eyebrows. “Nutella?”

“Traditional laundry snack.” Jungeun joins Jinsol on the table, still breathing heavily. She hands Jinsol the tub and one of the plastic spoons she brought.

Jinsol unscrews the lid and sets it beside her, then peels back the sealed gold foil. “Did you just buy this?”

“No, I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

Jinsol pauses with her spoon halfway in the tub. “Is this a special occasion?”

Jungeun is returning to her typical complexion, breathing evening out. “I rarely get to spend quality time with my roommate, so.”

Jinsol blushes. She scoops out some Nutella but doesn’t eat it, passing the tub to Jungeun first.

Her roommate digs her own spoon into the container, then lifts it to clink against Jinsol’s.

“Cheers,” Jungeun says.

They pop their spoons in their mouths at the same time.

“I haven’t had Nutella in forever,” Jinsol says once her spoon is clean. “And never straight out of the jar.”

“What kind of college student are you?” Jungeun complains, already going for seconds.

If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t want to double dip and get all the germs, but it’s Jungeun, and Jinsol finds herself not caring. She takes another scoop and swings her legs.

“I really don’t know much about you,” Jungeun says after several minutes of silent eating. “Tell me things.”

“Like what?”

“What was your life like before college?”

Jinsol pauses. “Not very interesting,” she mumbles.

“I don’t believe that,” Jungeun says. “Everybody’s interesting. Do you have any friends back home?”

“Why are you so interested in my social life?” Jinsol jabs her spoon into the jar a little too forcefully.

“I don’t know… You just seem sad. I thought maybe you left your heart behind at home.”

Jinsol appraises her for a moment. “No,” she says finally.

“No boyfriend, right?” Jungeun asks casually.

Jinsol snorts. “No. No boyfriend.” She glances at Jungeun a little bashfully. “No girlfriend, either,” she tacks on, deciding it’s finally time to break the news.

A pause, and Jungeun breaks into a smile. “I knew it.”

Jinsol laughs. “Wow. You knew, or you  _ hoped _ ?”

Jungeun merely smiles and Jinsol’s heart races at the silent answer that it was in fact the latter.

Jungeun then takes the jar from Jinsol and dips her spoon in. “By the way, what was with the nickname that Sooyoung called you?”

Jinsol freezes. Her heart pounds. “Oh. It’s nothing.”

“It sounds like there’s a story there,” Jungeun teases. “Come on, why were you fish girl?”

Jinsol swallows and stares at her swinging feet.

_ Don’t you trust me? _

Jinsol licks her lips, pulse continuing to race, words pouring out of her mouth before she can stop them. “I- I don’t know if Sooyoung has already told you this... but my mother bought me a fish when I was a kid. A blue betta fish. She told me to take _really_ good care of it.”

She pauses and Jungeun stays silent, patiently waiting for her to continue.

She swallows. “The day after, she died from a car accident.”

Now Jungeun freezes. Her spoon hangs out of her mouth, eyes wide.

She recovers after a moment or two, pulling the spoon from her mouth and lowering it. “Jinsol, I’m so sorry.”

Jinsol nods, staring at her feet again. “Ever since that day, I don’t ever let the fish leave my side, keeping my mother’s promise to take care of it. I put it in an aquarium overnight and bring it to school inside a large plastic container with water.”

She hangs her head. “I was afraid that if I leave it alone, it’ll die like my mother,” she says solemnly. “The kids at school make fun of me for it, calling me a weirdo and 'fish girl'. And that nickname stuck, I guess.” She laughs coldly. “Now you know.”

“Jinsol… I’m so sorry,” Jungeun says genuinely, one hand resting lightly on Jinsol’s shoulder blade. “I know that’s not enough, but I don’t know what else to say. That’s so horrible. All of it. You shouldn’t have had to go through that. Nobody should. The fact that those kids turned your coping mechanism for your mother’s death into something to make fun of you for…that’s awful.”

Jinsol chews on her lip. “Sooyoung saved me. She talked to me when nobody else would. She didn’t make me feel like a freak like everybody else did. She cared. But then she left and I was alone again.”

Jungeun frowns.

Jinsol lifts her head and puts on her brave face. “It’s fine. It’s ancient history.”

“Couldn’t have been that long ago,” Jungeun says in a small voice.

“Ten years,” Jinsol says with a nonchalant shrug, but her insides burn.

Jungeun’s arm slips all the way around her shoulders and she gives her a side hug, just a little squeeze. 

Jinsol leans into it, mildly embarrassed by the warmth that floods through her. She doesn’t get a lot of human touch in her life.

Jungeun must’ve noticed, because she leaves her arm, only letting it slide down so it’s around Jinsol’s waist instead of her shoulders. She sets the Nutella jar down on the table beside her and leans her head against Jinsol.

Jinsol exhales, feeling strangely at peace for having just opened up about the most traumatic event in her life for the first time in a decade.

“Thanks for trusting me,” Jungeun murmurs.

“We’re friends,” Jinsol says quietly, done fighting it. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“What, trusting me, or being my friend?”

“Same thing, isn’t it?”

In her peripherals, Jinsol can see Jungeun smile.

“I know we’ve gotten off the wrong foot but I’m glad we’ve moved past that now.”

“Yeah,” Jinsol said with a small smile of her own. “You really intimidated me when we first met–with you smoking and all. You seemed arrogant, plus you irritate me a lot too. Who knew Kim Jungeun is actually a softie?” 

Jungeun lifts her head from Jinsol’s shoulder. “I only smoke when I’m stressed or nervous,” she says softly. “I’m trying to stop, don’t worry.”

Jinsol turns to look at her, taking in her appearance for the first time all day.

Even without makeup on, she’s so _beautiful_ , undeniably so.

“Were you stressed or nervous that day?” 

Jungeun hums. “I guess I was just nervous to meet my roommate but I really tried not to show it.”

“Yeah, you were kind of mean to me,” Jinsol laughs. “Are you still nervous around me now?” She says this last part very quietly.

Jungeun stares at her and for a moment there, Jinsol sees her glancing down her lips.

Then, she simply shakes her head and taps Jinsol’s temple.

“Kind of. But it’s not for the same reason as before.”

Jinsol doesn't ask her what that means, already knowing the answer from the way Jungeun is looking at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for supporting this fic so far everyone <3


	5. Chapter 5

Immediately after the break, Jinsol comes down with the flu.

It hits her as suddenly and severely as a moving train, and she’s completely knocked out.

Jungeun finds her when she comes back to grab a book. Jinsol is surprised the girl is actually attending her classes regularly post-break. 

Upon hearing Jinsol cough and seeing her red cheeks, Jungeun immediately leans down to check if Jinsol’s okay but Jinsol rolls away from her.

“I’m okay, Jungeun,” she croaks.

Jungeun presses the backs of her fingers to her forehead and holds her head still when she tries to move. “No, you’re not. You have a fever.”

“But I have to go to class,” Jinsol mumbles deliriously.

Jungeun firmly pushes her back into bed. “No, Sol, you’re not going anywhere except the bathroom. Even that might be a stretch.”

Jinsol groans. “I can’t miss class this close to exams. I’ll miss too much.”

As she says it, a wave of nausea overcomes her.

Jungeun calmly holds a bucket underneath her head just in time. “I’ll go for you,” she says as she pulls the girl’s hair back.

Jinsol finishes vomiting and takes the offered Kleenex. “What?”

“I’ll go to class for you and take notes,” Jungeun offers.

Jinsol squints. “But you have your own classes.”

Jungeun rolls her eyes. “I can handle it I promise.”

Jinsol relents and nods okay.

“Now where’s your stuff for class?”

Jinsol points. “Red for Existentialism, blue for Contemporary Philosophy.”

The blonde blinks. “...Do you mean the notebooks or the pen color?”

“Yes,” Jinsol says sleepily, eyelids heavy.

Jungeun smiles. “Go to sleep,” she says. “I got this.”

The last thing she sees before she closes her eyes is Jungeun slinging Jinsol’s backpack over her shoulder.

#

When Jinsol wakes up, Jungeun is sitting at her desk – Jinsol’s desk, not Jungeun’s desk – with her head bent.

She’s wearing glasses and she’s licking her lips in concentration while writing on her blue notebook. The sight warms Jinsol’s heart.

Jinsol tries to sit up. Jungeun hears the movement and looks over, then quickly leaps up from the chair.

“Don’t get up yet.”

“What are you doing?” Jinsol mumbles.

“Rewriting your notes neatly,” she scratches the back of her neck. “Your prof was way too fast in switching slides.”

Jinsol lies back down, sighing. “It’s okay, thank you, Jungeun. How was class?”

“Enlightening,” Jungeun says. “Your Contemporary Philosophy professor remembered Kim Lip from the beginning of the semester, but I talked my way out of it and she let me stay when I explained the situation. She said it’s fine as long as I don’t do any of your assignments for you. And your Existentialism prof was cool. Really, insanely pretty.”

Jinsol hums, “Ms. Hwang’s a total milf.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Jungeun laughs before grabbing the notebooks, along with her philosophy book, and climbing into Jinsol’s bed.

“What–what are you doing?”

“I’m going to pass along my knowledge,” Jungeun says.

“Get out of my bed,” Jinsol protests. “You’re going to get sick too.”

Jungeun scoffs. “You underestimate my immune system.”

She adjusts so she’s sitting about halfway down the bed with her back to the wall and her legs extended over Jinsol’s.

“So,” she starts, adjusting her glasses. “Bertrand Russell. He was a pretty cool guy. I’m gonna read what he said, okay.” She finds the page in the book and begins reading before Jinsol can say anything. 

" _I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy – ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness – that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable life abyss_."

Even in Jinsol’s foggy state, she recognizes the essay. It’s one of her favorites. If she was in a better place, she would be able to recite it almost verbatim.

Jungeun’s voice is low, smooth. " _I have sought it finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined_."

Jinsol is quiet.

Jungeun glances at her and continues. " _This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what – at last – I have found. This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me_."

The last line echoes in the silent room.

Jungeun closes the book. “Thoughts?”

Jinsol blinks at her, not even noticing that tears have already gathered in her eyes. God, when she’s sick, she’s such a huge crybaby.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” Jungeun panics, wiping the few tears that fell to her cheeks with her palms. “Maybe discussing Bertrand's love and death can be pushed back until you’re not dying yourself,” she jokes.

Jinsol snorts in the middle of sniffling. “Yeah, it can wait.”

Jungeun trades the massive philosophy book for her blue notebook. “You also have to learn about Nietzsche by Wednesday, so let’s get started on that instead.”

Jinsol doesn’t have the heart to tell her that she’s already studied the entirety of their syllabus and read all her assigned readings for the rest of the class. She doesn’t have the heart to stop Jungeun because she’s _so_ into this and that makes Jinsol warm all over.

As Jungeun reads, her nose scrunches up cutely, glasses falling down her eyes. 

_She’s cute._

“So are you,” Jungeun says without looking up from the book.

Shoot, did Jinsol say that out loud?

“Yes,” Jungeun answers. She shuts the book and crawls closer to lay the back of her hand against Jinsol’s forehead. “Hm, your fever’s not going down.”

She drops the notebook onto Jinsol’s lap and starts clambering out of the bed.

“Good,” Jinsol mumbles. “Stay away.”

Jungeun rolls her eyes and chuckles. “I’m just getting you some medicine.”

She rummages around in her stuff, eventually brandishing a small box.

Jinsol catches the logo on the front. “I can’t take Ibuprofen.”

Jungeun frowns. “Tylenol then?”

Jinsol nods drowsily. 

Jungeun springs into action, grabbing a coat and her wallet and keys. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

And then she’s gone.

Jinsol falls back asleep. 

#

She wakes up to the soft click of a door closing and the comforting smell of food. Her eyes stay closed, as she snuggles closer to her pillows and half-listens to Jungeun moving around the room. Her bed dips and a cool hand presses against her cheek.

Perhaps it’s the fever or just the feeling of soft warmth against her skin, but Jinsol boldly reaches up to take the hand and hold it. 

“Welcome back,” she murmurs into her pillow. Jungeun allows their fingers to tangle together and Jinsol sighs because Jungeun leans over her to let her other hand carefully stroke her hair from her eyes.

“Sorry I took longer than I expected. I had to sprint to the pharmacy to get Tylenol, and I got you hot soup from the cafeteria along the way,” she says softly, tucking the hair behind Jinsol’s ear. “Did you sleep okay?”

Jinsol nods in confirmation and her eyes remain closed as Jungeun plays with her hair.

Her hands then pull away and Jinsol’s eyes open reluctantly.

“Can you sit up slowly?”

Jinsol nods, trying to sit up. “Okay, let’s put food in your stomach first before the drugs.” Jungeun grabs the bowl of soup and scoops a spoonful.

“I can really feed myself, Jungeun,” she complains.

But Jungeun insists and so Jinsol accedes, opening her mouth and letting Jungeun feed her until they reach half of the bowl and Jinsol decides she’s already full.

Jungeun sets the bowl aside, pulls a box out of the bag, and pries it open. She pops a couple of pills out of the foil packet and scoops Jinsol’s water bottle up off the floor.

Jinsol takes them, swallowing them down one by one with gulps of water.

Jungeun tosses the box onto her desk. “That should get your fever down. Hopefully.”

“Thanks, Jungeun,” Jinsol smiles, sincerely.

Jungeun crawls back into Jinsol’s bed, this time sitting up by her pillow and stretching her legs out alongside her. She plucks the forgotten notebook from Jinsol’s lap. “Let’s pick up from where we left off, yeah?”

Jungeun starts reading again. This time, Jinsol relaxes against her, drifting in and out, as Jungeun reads through her notes.

Jungeun must have noticed her sleepy state because she stops reading midway and puts the notebook down.

“Lie down properly, Sol,” she whispers. 

Jinsol doesn’t fight it and does as she’s told as she gets comfortable in her pillows lined against the wall. She glances anxiously back at Jungeun and softens completely when Jungeun adjusts herself and slips under the covers to lay behind her.

Her roommate lies on her side and strokes the hair from Jinsol’s eyes before drifting to rub over her back and shoulders.

“I’ll stay here while you sleep, okay?”

Jinsol eventually sleeps to soft skin against hers, warm against her own, and to the rhythmic sound of heart beating and even breathing. She thinks she’s never slept this soundly before.

#

When Jinsol wakes up, the light in the room has shifted, the sun having started to set. Jungeun’s fingertips are running up and down Jinsol’s arm.

“Are you feeling better now?” Jungeun asks, having immediately sensed that she’s awake.

“Yeah, kind of.” Jinsol feels all achy and she’s not sure if it’s from being sick or from sleeping in that position.

“That’s good.” Jungeun rolls slightly to her side, her other arm coming around to hug Jinsol.

“Thanks for going to class for me,” Jinsol murmurs. “And taking care of me.”

“It’s my pleasure. Though, I have to say, being a Philosophy major for a day was a little mind-numbingly dull.”

Jinsol tries to shove her, but her arms are weak and Jungeun is still holding her. “Coming from an Engineering student.”

“I’m kidding,” Jungeun teases. “This is your thing, and you’re much better at it than I am.”

Jinsol yawns for what feels like the billionth time today. “Hm, so what did you think of Bertrand?” 

Jungeun gets even closer. “He was a sappy old man.”

Jinsol laughs lightly. “You seemed like you were getting pretty into him earlier?”

“Was it him I was getting into?” Jinsol can hear a smile twisting Jungeun’s words. “If you say so.”

Jinsol hides her own smile by pressing her face to Jungeun’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i tell you i can't handle angst for too long and always go crawling back to writing fluff...


End file.
